


A Stuffed Lion is not the same as saying, "Get well".

by Authormitchel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror, Auror Harry Potter, Getting Together, M/M, boys who don't know how to handle their feelings, boys who learn how to do that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 11:24:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11274441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Authormitchel/pseuds/Authormitchel
Summary: When Harry winds up in St. Mungo's he doesn't expect Draco to show up, but he's really glad that he did.





	A Stuffed Lion is not the same as saying, "Get well".

**Author's Note:**

> A Draco/Harry one shot. I hope you guys like it, and thank you in advance for reading it. If you want you can follow me on Tumblr at thinkmyhappythoughts. Love you.

Luckily, nothing was broken, and the internal damage was minimal, except for the fact that his head wa-s wailing. A large variety of bruises, and a few very sore ribs. Every part of Harry ached, but with the constant assurances that I should be lucky to be alive, he wasn’t going to complain. The room at St. Mungo’s was large and blank though he heard someone whispering something about a V.I.P room. He wanted to tell them not to bother, he would be out of there as soon as he could actually move properly.   
The white walls, and bed sheets made the room look more like a prison than a hospital, that is, until the flowers started to arrive. It seemed that every person in the Wizarding World had heard about Harry’s accident and had decided to send something over. Flowers, balloons, candy, even stuffed animals, slowly started to fill up the bland looking room. Everyone was showing their support and their love for him, everyone, it seemed, but the one person he actually wanted to hear from. 

Apart of him wondered if he would show up, or if he had even heard that he was in the hospital. Of course, he knows, Harry thought, he just doesn’t care. Fine, it’s not like he really wants to see Draco Malfoy anyway. The blonde git. Thought, the realization hit him harder than he thought it would. Why did he want to see him anyway? Picking up the side mirror that one of the nurses brought him, Harry looked at my reflection. His hair was a mess, knotted and greasy, and his cheeks were still flushed with a light fever from all the medicine. Just then a knock sounds at the door. It opens slight, and Harry’s heart jumps into his throat, but it isn’t him. The nurse comes around, waves her wand over him checking his vitals. 

“How are you feeling?” she asks when she finishes. 

“Better,” answers Harry, smiling up at her. “Anxious to go home, I bet?” she asks.

“You have no idea,”   
The nurse marks some things on his chart, before bowing out of the room when she sensed Harry was in no mood for small talk.

He shakes his head, feeling stupid for even thinking that Malfoy would show up for him. He hadn’t at the scene, he hadn’t before that. He had shown no interest in Harry since that night at the bar, but Harry didn’t care. So what if he thought they had flirted and so what if he thought that he had felt something? It didn’t matter if the person you talked to the night before wanted nothing to do with you in the morning. 

The door opened again, and Harry not ready to make any more small talk with the nurse, said, “I’m fine, thanks, no need to check me over or get me anything.” 

When the nurse didn’t answer immediately he looked up. 

“I guess I’ll just leave then.”

It was Malfoy.

“Are you sure I can’t get you anything, Potter? Champagne, more balloons maybe, I see you don’t have a stuffed thing shaped like a monkey yet, perhaps one of those?” asked Draco.

“No, I’...”

“Maybe a little lion?” he asks. Draco moves to further into the room, and approaches the side table. He picks up a little lion equipped with a little Gryffindor scarf around it’s mane. “Too late, I see. I guess these will have to do.”

He hands Harry some flowers, daisies, and they’re beautiful. Simple, like Harry likes. 

“I thought these might cheer you up, but I see that you have enough of that already. Maybe I should just toss them out instead,” he teases, moving toward the trash can.

“Don’t you dare,” Harry barks, reaching out for the white daises. The look on his face is unreadable. It always is, Harry wonderers if everyone else has this much trouble reading Draco Malfoy or if it’s just him? 

“Not too big is it?” Draco asks, sounding as if Draco should be put out about the size of the room. 

“It’s only for a few days,” Harry replies. “and besides it could be worse, I could have to share with someone, an old man on a vegetarian diet.”

It was a joke, but Draco didn’t laughing. 

“And how are you feeling?” he asked though he was now avoiding eye contact. “Better,” Harry answers, choosing to ignore his odd behavior. There was something in the air, something that felt different. 

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks. Draco looks up at him, and all at once the somber expression he wore a minute ago vanishes, and in it’s place is his famous sneer.

“Absolutely nothing,” he answers on impulse. “I just thought I would see if you were okay, which clearly you are. So, now I guess I’ll be on my way,” he said, before quickly turning toward the door. 

“Wait,” Harry calls after him, his one word stopping his retreat. His whole body stiffens, like a rod has gone straight up his back. “I was worried about you,” he says, still facing the door, his voice so low Harry can barely hear him. 

“Worried? Malfoy, there was nothing to be worried about. This is just temporary,” he says, motioning to his worn body. Harry laughs hoping to lighten the mood, but Malfoy stays stringent. Harry watches him for a long time. The only sound in the room   
is Draco’s breathing and Harry’s waiting. Then Draco turns on him.

“What were you thinking anyway?!” he shouts, turning on Harry with a wild ferocity blazing in his eyes. 

“What?”

“I mean, couldn’t you have oh, I don’t know, looked before you crossed the street, or ran out of the way, anything?” he yelled at me. “You’re a bloody wizard for goodness. And it’s not that I don’t have to worry enough about you getting hexed or cursed on some auror mission, but I can’t even trust you to walk down the street by yourself?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Harry said, sitting up in the bed. He’s had enough of Draco’s bull. “Why didn’t I just fly out of the way because that’s what you would have done right Draco? Because you’re so perfect?” 

“Don’t you know it baby,” he said, that cocky look on his face Harry just ached to punch. Harry threw his legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the surge of pain that shot up his back when he stood. 

“Why did you even come here then, to mock me? You could have waited until I was back to work at least you bastard.” Harry yelled, moving toward him.

“Fuck you,” Draco replied. Draco grabbed the door handle, but Harry put his hand over his shutting it. 

“Look at me!” yelled Harry. Harry never hated anyone more in his whole entire life then he did Draco Malfoy in that moment. In a flash, Draco turned on him, and ignoring his broken ribs and the bruises on Harry’s body Draco turns to him and pushes   
him against the wall, kissing him deep. 

“Mine. Mine. Mine,” Draco murmurs in between clash of their lips. Harry pushes him away, but Malfoy is determined to stay as close as possible to the infuriating boy who refuses to die. 

“Why now?” Harry asks. “I thought you weren’t interested.”

Draco pressed his hips into Harry’s. “Of course I’m interested.”

Harry huffed. He was still a little sore, but he wasn’t that sore to ignore the way that his body was reacting to Draco’s. 

“But the other night? We were getting on so well, and then nothing. You didn’t owl, you turned the other direction when I saw you at the Ministry.”

Harry had been hurt then, but fuck, this was just torture. He didn’t want to play the, do you like me or not game, he just wanted to have him. 

Draco released him then, and Harry felt his loss. “I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure what if you wanted, if I was something more than just something to do while you were on the outs with the Weaslette, or what?”

“Of course not,” Harry said immediately. “Ginny and I haven’t been together for months.”

Harry moved toward him. 

“I want you, you ignorant git. Why do you think I was practically throwing myself at you the other night?” 

Harry reached out his hand, like Malfoy was a wild animal and Harry was only about sixty percent sure that he wasn’t going to get bit. 

Malfoy turned to him. “So what do you want Harry?” 

Harry stepped into his feet and kissed him. 

“I want to be yours. Yours. Yours. Yours.”

Malfoy laughed happily and kissed Harry again. “I think we can do that.”


End file.
